Mamoru's Confessions
by The Young Lady of Legends
Summary: Mamoru Chiba is living in a world of dark shadows. What happens when an odangoed ray of light creeps in? Review!


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Mamoru's Confessions

Celestial Maiden Ceres

"Jerk." 

"Brat." 

"Snob." 

"Child." 

"Arrogant..." 

"Spoiled..." 

"Cold hearted Satan..."

"Empty headed Odango Atama..." 

"Arrrrrrrgh!!!!! You are so *annoying*!" Usagi finally cried. "And you're such a spoiled little..." Mamoru bit the end of the sentence off, determined that the blond wasn't going to get the better of him. 

"You don't have a single sensitive bone in your body, do you? What's functioning in place of a heart in that chest of yours, huh? A lump of steel?" Usagi marched up to him until they were nose to nose and tapped his chest. Mamoru felt cold rage settle over him. Without a word, he abruptly turned away from the odangoed one and walked away. He had to or he might have been too tempted to grab that slim white neck and throttle her. 'How does she always manage to get under my skin like that?' he asked himself. No one else he knew could get such a reaction out of him. Mostly because her well-aimed insults were truer than she could have guessed. He stormed out of the arcade and back to his apartment. It looked like the victory of that day's battle had gone to Usagi. 

Usagi still stood in the arcade, looking mildly surprised at Mamoru's sudden exit. "I just can't *stand* that man!!!" she finally erupted and slammed down onto the stool Mamoru had vacated not moments ago. Motoki peered hesitantly down the counter, hoping that today's battle was over. He had long learned he just had to let Usagi and Mamoru have it out. After all, it would definitely take a force greater than he possessed to stop those two once they got going. And he had also learned that it was better to take refuge as far away as possible from the dueling couple, not only from the sheer volume of Usagi's voice when she was angry, but also from the completely likely chance that they would start throwing things. He grinned wryly as he remembered last week's encounter when an inadequately aimed chocolate shake had ended up in his lap. He *still* couldn't get the chocolate out of his pants. 

"Usagi-chan?" he ventured, still fearful of her rage and the power of her inhumanly earsplitting voice. But he needn't have worried. Usagi's anger had rapidly dissolved once Mamoru had disappeared. It always did and she was always rueful about the things she said to him. 

"Motoki?" she asked wistfully. "Why is he always so heartless?" Motoki remembered what had started this skirmish, Mamoru's unnecessarily harsh response to Usagi's latest failing test. Of course she had unknowingly thrown the paper at him and hit him in the head, but even so... "Usagi-chan," he began, and sighed. What could he say to her? "Mamoru's my best friend and even I don't know him all that well. But did it ever occur to you that he might be a little jealous of you? You have so many friends and joy and Mamoru doesn't really have a lot of that. He could just be lashing out because he's afraid that if he lets you get too close and become friends he'd be reminded every day of what he doesn't have. Plus..." 

But he couldn't finish that sentence. Who was he to betray his best friend and tell Usagi that he had *veeeery* strong suspicions that Mamoru had much stronger feelings for her than friendship. "What, Motoki-kun?" Usagi said when he paused. "Nothing, Usagi-chan," he replied, determined to stay loyal to his friend. Besides he didn't even know if Mamoru really did like her. "I just think that you should give him another chance." 

"Well..." She thought about it. "Maybe." "Oops," Motoki said. "I forgot that I was supposed to bring some sodas to booth six. I'll see you later, Usagi-chan." "Bye, Motoki-kun!" she chirped cheerfully. "Thanks for listening!" 

He looked fondly at the teenager. She was just like a sister to him. And she would be so perfect for Mamoru. He kept himself locked away so much, he was so hesitant to show any emotion and determined to keep his damned dignity. In fact the only person Motoki had ever see Mamoru lose it with was Usagi. Mamoru really could use someone like her in his life. Motoki hoped that if Mamoru really did like her that he wouldn't mess it up anymore. 

"Anytime, Usagi-chan," he said as he walked away. Usagi stayed a little longer, finishing her chocolate shake. When she finally got up to leave, something caught her eye underneath the counter. She crawled around the stools and picked up the object. Looking at it for a moment, she saw that it was a book. 

"Usagi!" someone called. She jumped and, naturally, banged her head against the counter. "Usagi!" Rei said again, impatiently. "What on earth are you doing under the counter? You were supposed to be at the temple a half an hour ago!" Usagi cringed as she remembered. She quickly shoved the book in her backpack. She could see if there was a name inside and, if not, return it to Andrew tomorrow so he could find the owner. 

* * * 

Usagi sighed as she finally got home to the comfort of her room. The senshi meeting had gone longer than usual, and Luna had insisted that they do some physical training. They had practiced plain old hand-to-hand combat for an hour. The other girls seemed to take it better than the less coordinated Usagi. After all, Makoto was well versed in fighting from her schoolyard fight days, and Rei was practically a martial artist. Minako had previous experience as Sailor V, and even Ami showed the necessary coordination and agility. They had picked up on the kicks and punches easily, where Usagi had spent most of the time on the ground or bawling her eyes out. Needless to say, she was emotionally tired and physically exhausted. She didn't want to fall asleep before dinner because she *knew* that she would never be able to get up again. So she just flopped onto her bed and looked at the ceiling for a while. After that got boring she managed, with great effort, to roll to the edge of her bed. She had thrown her backpack there when she got home and now she reached into it, searching for the Sailor V manga she knew she had in there. Instead her hand closed on a book. Curious, she pulled it out and remembered that afternoon at the arcade.

She looked more closely at the cover. It was completely black except for a vibrant, perfect red rose just unfurling in the upper left hand corner, its thorny stem winding down the outside edge of the cover. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. It was beautiful. Almost reverently, for she knew now that this couldn't be an ordinary book, she ran her fingers down the rose's stem. Her fingers lingered at the outside edge and, giving into the temptation, she slowly opened the cover. There was no name inscribed on the inside of the cover but her eyes were drawn to the next page. It too was blank, except for one handwritten word. "Confessions," she read aloud. 'How strange...' she thought to herself. 'What kind of book is this?' Deep down she knew that she shouldn't look any further. There was no name so she should just close the book and ask Andrew tomorrow if he knew who lost it. She giggled. "Oh, who am I kidding?" she asked out loud to the empty room. The curiosity was just about killing her. She turned the page, found another blank page, and turned another. Then she stopped. Then next page had lovingly written script in short lines across the unlined page. 'Poems,' she thought, realization dawning. 

'It's a book of poetry.' She knew now even more than before that she shouldn't read this book. These words were the private feelings of someone and she had no right to read them. It was like reading someone's diary. But there was no way she was going to stop now. She turned her attention back to the first poem and softly read it aloud. 

Beyond My Reach 

Somehow, I know If I could travel to the horizon 

That mysterious place where 

The earth or sea meets the sky 

Grab a ray of sunset 

Pluck a shooting star out of the 

Dark, forbidding night I would be enough. 

If I tried just a little harder If I gave just a bit more

If I reached just a little further

Beyond my reach. 

For once, my best just isn't enough

I need to be more.

I know what you're looking for.

I'm looking too. 

But the missing piece that 

Would make me whole 

Isn't here, I can't see it.

It seems to be always just 

Beyond my reach. 

When she finished, she sat in reverent silence for a minute. 'Whoa...' she thought. And all of a sudden she was consumed with a desire to read this book. She turned the page and, in the absorbent silence, continued reading aloud until her mother called her down for dinner. 

* * * 

Always Will 

Why are my eyes always drawn to you

Whenever you walk into a room? 

Doesn't matter if you're 

In a crowd of a hundred 

Or even more 

Surrounded by many 

Much more beautiful. 

Constantly analyzing your face 

Out of the corner of my eye 

Searching for the imperfections

That I know are there, 

Searching for the reason why 

With all your imperfections I'm still drawn to you. 

But somehow your clear blue gaze 

With eyelashes so long 

And golden hair so soft to the eye 

Captures my attention every time 

And my heart as well. 

And I still don't know why I'm always drawn to you. 

I just always was. 

And always will.

Usagi silently mouthed the words, needing the feeling of speaking them out loud. She had been reading the book for the past two days. It thrilled her and frightened her and shamed her and comforted her all at the same time. The thoughts put so eloquently down on paper almost echoed her own. Yet the complete power of the written word that this faceless author had mastered made her feel so small and insignificant. It was remarkably like staring at the stars on a clear night. The twinkled down comfortingly but at the same time dwarfed their onlooker with the magnitude and mystery of the night sky. It was, however, an experience that she wasn't going to give up for the world. 

"Usagi-chan... Usagi? Usagi! Earth to Usagi!!!" 

"H-huh?" Usagi stammered, startled out of her reveries. Naru stood over her, smiling. "Where were you?" Naru demanded. "Hey, are you reading? An actual book? Uh oh, what's wrong?" I giggled with her. 

"I know," I admitted, "it's kind of freaky, isn't it? I hardly believe it myself." 

"Well, what's this Great Novel that conquered the incorrigible manga-only-reading Usagi?" I hesitated for a minute. I knew it was selfish but I felt like this book was written for me. I didn't want to take away some of the mystery by sharing it with someone. "It's just a book. Of poetry, actually," I finally said.

"Really? I didn't know that you liked poetry. Can I see it?" 

"Actually," I began slowly, "it doesn't belong to me and I promised not to let it out of my hands for a second. I'm really sorry." 

"Hey, that's okay," Naru reassured me. "Poetry's not really my thing anyway." I gave an internal sigh of relief. For some strange reason I felt closer to the author of the book than any of my friends. 'I wonder what he looks like?' I thought dreamily. 'Wait a minute. What makes you think that it's a he?' But somehow I had no doubt that the author was a man. All signs pointed that way. Even the penmanship was masculine with its broad strokes and confident lines. I settled down in my secluded hideaway underneath a tree in the courtyard to read some more. 

Darkness To Light 

In a world where love was light

Brilliant rays of sunshine

My life was dark 

Driven by unseen demons.

Haunted by hissing shadows 

Even my fantasies deserted me

My dreams and hopes as well. 

And no one wanted to come near 

To the child of darkness 

Preferring to bask in the light.

That suited me, I didn't want them 

Putting false hopes in my head.

But after a while, something changed 

And I might have had the strength

To banish the darkness 

And welcome the light. 

But now the light seemed harsh 

Far too bright and probing 

And the shadows that had haunted me 

Now provided a welcome defense

Against the light that knew too much

And sometime I made a choice

I chose the darkness over the light. 

But one day, a single ray of light 

Made its way into the dark 

And this light was gentle and loving 

But most of all, it found me. 

Slowly I was drawn out of the shadows 

And to this ray of light.

At the end, or perhaps the beginning,

I found you. 

Sometime in my life I knew you'd save me

Perhaps not now 

For the light still seemed harsh

But sometime in my life I'd make another choice 

And let you into my heart 

So you could turn all my darkness 

To light.

I gasped at this dark poem. Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks. I could almost feel the loneliness of the author, the pain, the rejection from his peers. How afraid he was of life and light now since he had been hurt so badly. And even underneath all that was a message of hope and understanding. There was a person out there that had drawn the author out of the darkness. I wondered if it was the blond- haired goddess that so frequently appeared in his poems. I wept at all the emotion in the poem, but I wept for something more. Deep down I knew that I was falling in love with the faceless author of these beautiful words. No one had been able to touch me with words like he had. I loved him for the sorrow he had gone through, and I could tell that it was far vaster than even the poems described. I loved him for the true self that I was privileged enough to see through this book. But, as the tears continued to fall, I knew from his words that he had already found his love. 

* * * 

Letting Go 

I want to let go 

Want it so desperately.

Want to let go of this pain 

That pounds so mercilessly in my heart. I

want to cry 

Need to perhaps. 

Tears can be healing 

And empty the soul. 

Crying myself to sleep 

Would be better 

Than tossing and turning 

Long sleepless nights. 

Maybe it's better this way 

With all the pain locked inside.

I think I feel much stronger now

Then I ever did before. 

And yet tonight I lie awake once more 

Staring at the mocking, 

Glowing numbers on the clock 

Slowly watching the hours blink by.

Another sleepless night 

Another day to get through 

Another bruise to my aching heart 

As the sun lights my room. 

And as I lie here I'm glad for the strength. 

Yet in these long, lonely hours 

I think I'd rather prefer to cry. 

Tears were shed all through the room as I read the poem aloud. Tissues were passed again and again as four teenage girls dissolved into a sea of tears. I put all the anguish that I felt through the poem into my voice as I read it. When I finished, Minako raised her head from its soggy position on her arm. "That was... so beautiful," she sobbed.

Ami put her head down on Makoto's shoulder and melted into tears. Even Rei's eyes were wet with tears. I began to question the wisdom of coming to the senshi meeting for help. "Guys!" I yelled at them, not unaffected by the poem myself, I had just read it before. "A little focus please?" 

My extremely un-Usagi-like words sobered them up a little. Rei, who was the most composed of the group spoke first. "So, why did you read us that poem, Usagi-chan?" she wondered. 

"Because I don't know who the author is," I paused at their blank stares.

"What do you mean?" Minako asked, sniffling. I turned the book around so the open pages faced them. They eagerly looked up at them, but were confused by its obviously unpublished and personal pages. 

"The pages are handwritten and there's no name anywhere on the book. I found it at the arcade, under the counter. Remember, Rei? You found me crawling underneath the counter and yelled at me? That's when I found it. I think someone lost it, but I don't know how to find him. This book obviously means a lot to him and I really think I should give it back but I don't know how." 

"Is that why you showed it to us?" Ami asked, regaining some of her usual composure. 

"Well..." I hesitated. How could I tell them that I was in love with a man that I had never seen? "Usagi-chan?" Minako interrupted suddenly. "You keep saying that the author is a 'he'? How do you know the author is male?"

I squared my shoulders and met their curious faces. "The reason that I think the author is male is... because I think I'm falling in love with him." Four simultaneous gasps of surprise echoed in the small room. 

"But, Usagi-chan!" Makoto gasped. "You don't even know who he is!" I shrugged. I had often repeated this point to myself. 

"I can't help it, minna-chan. It doesn't matter who it is. I *know* him. I know you can't understand, but I feel like these words were written only for me. Sure, I don't know what he looks like or his favorite color, but I know his darkest moments, his brightest hopes. And I love him for them." I saw my friends hold a four-way conversation with their eyes. Finally, Ami asked one of her typically sensible questions. 

"Well then, what's the problem?" she said. I sighed. Now came the hard part. "Listen," I told them, thumbing to another page. "You'll see." 

Unwelcome 

I never wanted you close

Didn't want anything to do with you 

And now I'm looking around 

And everywhere I see you. 

You seeped into the cracks 

Of the wall I built around my heart 

Tiny fractures I never saw 

Shedding light into the dark.

But I never wanted you 

Knew somehow you'd destroy me 

So I stayed away and from a distance 

Watched you unknowingly. 

I turned my back 

And suddenly you were there 

Surprising me when I turned around I saw you everywhere. 

But I never wanted you 

Not in any way

I teased and insulted you 

Anything to keep you away. 

I know it wasn't your fault 

Won't even try to blame you

Once I discovered you in my heart 

I knew what I had to do. 

I knew I had to get you out

And yet I never did I guess I thought 

I could stay unaffected. 

My mind knew it must protect my heart 

And fight until the end

But somehow that foolish heart 

Just wouldn't listen. 

You entered my heart unwelcome

I fought to keep you away 

I guess it's funny that even so

I'd end up loving you anyway.

Thankfully, this time when I finished I heard romantic sighs instead of sobs. They all just sat there and stared off into space, dreamy eyed. "You see?" I asked, impatiently. 

"What a guy..." Minako sighed. 

"But, don't you see what I mean?" I said, even more impatient. "He already loves someone else. That's why I came to you. So... what do I do now?" I looked around expectantly for some answers. Anything to help ease this torment I'd been feeling ever since I discovered I was in love with this author. But Rei, Ami, Makoto, and even Minako, who was so versed on the topic of love, avoided my eyes. Silence descended upon the room.

* * * 

"Oh... where is that infernal book??!" Mamoru shouted, digging through the drawers in his bedroom. He had been tearing his apartment up for days and he *still* couldn't find it. Finally he slumped down on his bed. "I *need* that book," he said aloud. 

He couldn't believe that he'd lost it. It was his more treasured possession. He'd poured his heart out into that book for months now. Poetry came easily to him, gave him an outlet for feelings that he just couldn't express. Especially the feelings he had for a certain odangoed blond... 

He sat back and tried to think. 'Where did I have it last?' he asked himself, retracing his steps. 'Let's see... I brought it with me to the library... and then I stopped to see Andrew at the arcade... and then I fought with Odango Atama... and then I stormed out... uh oh... I bet I left it at the arcade!' He jumped up and, grabbing his jacket, headed for the arcade. 

* * *

After Usagi left the temple, she just wandered for a little, hugging the book to her chest and wrestling with her conscience. Eventually she wound up at the arcade and she walked through the doors unnoticed. She saw Mamoru talking agitatedly with Motoki at the counter. 'Wow,' she thought. 'I actually got inside the arcade without Mamoru-baka insulting me. This has got to be a first...' 

But it's no wonder that Mamoru or Motoki didn't notice the blond-haired girl who slipped quietly around to sneak into a booth, close enough to hear their conversation. Motoki had his hands full trying to calm down a nearly frantic Mamoru. And Mamoru was, for perhaps the first time in his life, seriously freaking out. "Are you *sure* that you never saw it?" Mamoru asked once again. "It's just a black book with a rose on the cover. I'm *positive* that I left it here? No one's turned a book into you? You haven't heard anything about someone finding it? I need to get it back!!" 

"I haven't seen it, but I'm sure if someone found it then they're trying to find the owner," Motoki said soothingly. "When or if they can't, they'll probably bring it back here. If they do, then I'll call you. You'll get it back." These comforting words had an adverse effect on Mamoru. 'What if someone finds it and throws it out? Or worse... what if someone *reads* it?' 

"Motoki, I can't let anyone read it!" Mamoru cried. "Well, why not?" Motoki answered sensibly. "It's just a book."

Mamoru slumped over the counter and put his head on his arms. "Oh, it's hopeless..." he muttered. Motoki just looked at him and shook his head. Then, his duty as best friend getting the better of him, he continued to try to alleviate Mamoru's fears, even if he didn't understand them himself. Still unnoticed, Usagi slipped out of the booth and out the door. 

* * * 

"Mamoru-san? The book belongs to Mamoru-san? No... there's no way that cold-hearted, callous bully could write poetry like this. There's no way!" Usagi said over and over to herself as she walked home. But she had seen a different side of Mamoru today. He'd been seriously upset over losing the book. And there were times, she had to admit, when his eyes seemed to soften a little from their usual icy blue. She'd seen him laughing with Motoki, and heck it was Motoki himself who told Usagi to give Mamoru another try. Usagi reached her house and ran up the steps inside. 

She went to her room and locked the door behind her. Mamoru or not, she knew she was in love with the author of The Book. And, she admitted even further, she had always been unfairly attracted to Mamoru. She could have avoided the arcade if she truly didn't want him verbally attacking her, but she didn't. She went there faithfully every day, even knowing *he* would be there. And although he could make her blood boil with anger, she was always somewhat sad and disappointed when he left.

She always wondered why he had to be so cruel. She always wondered what it would be like if they had started out differently. If they could have actually been... friends. And what hurt the most was the thought of Mamoru in love. Usagi closed her eyes tightly, trying to imagine the girl who could have caught his attention and won his love. She wondered if the girl was pretty. 

Firmly making up her mind, she sat down at her table. She loved what she had been privileged to see in Mamoru. Even if he didn't love her, she had to give him a chance. She had to know. Plus, he really did deserve his book back. Even she wasn't selfish enough to keep it. Especially knowing how much pain it would cause him. 

She got a piece of paper and a pen and sat for a minute, letting her emotions flow to the surface. Then she began to form her feelings into words, from her heart to her mind to her pen to her paper. 

* * * 

Mamoru sat in the park, on a bench overlooking the lake. He was a little calmer now and had come to terms with what happened. He still regretted the loss of his book, it contained his feelings and memories for the past months, but knew that it wasn't the end of the world. Heck, maybe this was someone's way of telling him that he had to move on. Start another book. Let go of the pain and anger that the previous book held. 'Can I?' he wondered. He had held onto his pain for so long that he wasn't sure if he could let it go. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, remembering the grief. He wrenched himself away from the memories and tried to focus on something else. Before he thought he would die if anyone read his book, but now... now he was beginning to change his mind. What was so wrong with letting other people see inside of him occasionally anyway? He wondered idly if they (whoever "they" were) had liked his poems. His English prof was always at him to get his writing out into the world. He said that Mamoru had talent and needed to share it. Maybe he should... But it would be like ripping away all his carefully constructed barriers and laying his heart bare for the world to see. He couldn't do that! 

But then he smiled, remembering Usagi. She certainly walked around with her heart on her sleeve. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, she was almost always happy. And she had more friends than he ever had. Maybe she'd even read his poems one day and be touched by them. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought, the hope. Maybe he could tell her that almost all his poems were about her. Maybe she'd be flattered. Maybe they could be friends... His thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sense of someone by him. 

His eyes flew open and he looked around. He saw a girl running out the park exit, her two long ponytails flying out behind her. "Odango..." he wondered. Was he dreaming? Then he looked down at the empty space on the bench next to him. 

A black book stared up at him. He hesitantly touched it, fearful that it was merely a figment of his overworked imagination like the Odango Atama his mind had conjured. But the book was firm and solid underneath his hand, so he picked it up. Amazingly he wasn't as ecstatically happy as he thought he would be to have it back. 

He absentmindedly flipped through the full pages, thinking, when a loose piece of paper fell out of the book. He picked it up and curiously looked at it. 'This isn't my handwriting,' he thought. Almost of their own volition, his eyes settled on the handwritten words and he began to read the poem.

"For Mamo-chan," he read the simple inscription out loud. More curious than ever, and amused and pleased at the nickname, he continued to read out loud. 

The Way You Get To Me

Could you possibly be so unaware

Of the way you get to me? 

I can't even count all the times 

That you have smiled at me

When we've locked gazes somehow.

But even if you smile out of friendliness 

It's still not enough. 

For I smile differently at you

Than I do at anyone else 

Even if you never seem to notice.

Never notice how my eyes latch onto you 

Even from across a crowded room

Or how your joy can brighten my day 

While your tears tend to make me cry 

Blissfully oblivious of your effect on my life 

How you hold my heart in your very hand. 

But someday I hope to get to you 

The way you've gotten to me.

Love, 

Tsukino Usagi. 

* * * 

Usagi avoided Mamoru like the plague the next month. She gave up going to the arcade and looked around carefully every time she went out to prevent crashing into him on the street. Of course he wasn't exactly seeking her out either. The fact that he never gave any indication of her poem, his obvious rejection of her, left her feeling strangely melancholy. She went through that month growing more and more miserable as the days passed. She recognized that she really was in love with him. And his rejection *hurt* because of that. She tortured herself wondering if he was with his love all this time. If she had made a fool of herself by trying to win his affections. 'Yeah,' she thought, 'he's probably laughing at me right now. That silly teenager that's so in love with him that she writes him sappy poems. I bet his beautiful blond-haired princess gets a kick out of it!'

Everyone noticed the change in Usagi. The senshi were unnervingly gentle with her, even Rei. Luna had even been easy on her lately, instead of bugging her about her homework and being late and senshi business. Of course, she didn't have much to complain about lately. Usagi had been doing all of her homework, getting to school and senshi meetings on time, and acting unusually serious about life. It was scary. Luna almost wished for the impulsive, chronically late, wailing, joyous Usagi back. All her friends did. 

After about a month, Usagi had sunk into a quiet depression. This particular day she had already finished her homework and was sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up and her chin resting on them, staring off into space. Luna looked at the dejected figure and sighed. The sound of the doorbell chiming out startled both of them. Usagi waited for her parents to get it and, when she didn't hear the door open, slowly got up. 

She walked downstairs and opened the front door. And there was no one there. Surprised, she looked around, but saw no one. Then, on the doormat right outside the door, she saw a brown paper-wrapped package. She picked it up and carried it up to her room. 

"What's that?" Luna asked surprised. Usagi didn't reply, but sat back down on her bed. She set the package in front of her and gently lifted the tape from one of the flaps holding the paper together. She removed another piece of tape and another and then the paper fell open. She looked at the insides of the package. It was a book. 

A hardbound book with a black cover and a perfect red rose just unfurling on the side, its stem trailed down the edge of the cover. She gasped. It was Mamo-chan's book! At first she didn't understand. Was he giving it to her? Then she saw the words inscribed in the cover. The title stared up at her in the same deep red color of the rose. "Confessions," she read aloud, "by Chiba Mamoru." Realization was beginning to dawn, but she still didn't know why he had given it to her. She opened the cover and flipped a page or two. Abruptly her eyes were drawn to the words, stark and black against the creamy white page. It was a dedication, she recognized. "For my darling Usako, who not only had the courage to read these words but also inspired me to publish this book. My love, these poems, this book, is for you." 

Usagi raised tear-filled eyes from the page. A sob escaped from her lips, but a beautiful smile was on her face. "Luna!" she gasped, jumping up from the bed, grabbing the concerned kitty, and swinging her around. "He loves me! He really loves me!" She dropped Luna on the bed next to the book, hoping that would answer whatever questions she had and bolted down the stairs. 

Her misery had melted away with those sweet words and the world had suddenly burst into focus again. She felt her heart singing gaily and the joie de vivre that so characterized Usagi returned. 

She burst out of the door and stumbled down the steps into Mamoru's waiting arms. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*

borrowed it from BrightAngel 


End file.
